Untold Secrets, Unimaginable Lies
by Kaseomelette
Summary: [Completed] One-shot from Hermione's POV about the friendship that never truly existed, and the betrayal and pain that came from two people you'd never expect. Warning: Very far from Canon..perhaps an AU..


A/N: So far from canon it's sickening, but also a very interesting story. Perhaps an alternate universe.   
  
Genre: Tragedy/Drama  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Hermione discoveres something she never thought possible about her two best friends.  
  
~Untold Secrets, unimaginable lies~  
  
If anyone ever told you that life was all about love and happiness, they lied. Life is a grueling fight to the death with tens of thousand of people whose names you will never know, or remember. If anyone ever told you that friendship lasts forever, they too lied, straight to your face. Friendship can last only a few days, weeks, months, perhaps, and only if you're very lucky, friendship can last for years. The only proof of this is held in two people that I have known for quite a while. I didn't meet them until I was about ten or eleven. Life, the grueling fight, you remember, was much less deadly and hideous then, when all you really had to worry about was whether your shoes were getting too small, or your pant legs were getting too short.   
  
My first year at Hogwarts was a difficult one. Not that I wasn't the brightest student in my year, or that in the first week I was already being considered for quite a few advanced courses. It was difficult in the sense that myself, being muggle-born, knew no other wizarding families, and finding friends was a rather challenging task. Already my choices were limited. Nearly one-third of the school populous were completely out of the question. No one from the Slytherin house was willing to befriend a 'mudblood', as they called me.   
  
I had to resort to plan B. I was going to have to be picky. There were plenty of people who were more than glad to be best friends with the smartest girl amongst the first years. This was going to be tougher than I thought. Then, I came upon two people who absolutely took the cake. And I found it only a teensy-bit odd that I would make friends with two males. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Both of which I became particularly fond of on the train-ride to Hogwarts at the beginning of the year. They couldn't just be after me for my brain. They were talking and laughing with me even before they knew I was a genious. I have to admit Ron may have caught my eye in more ways than one, but I was looking for friendship, not a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Those are two completely different things.  
  
We had instantly hit it off, and, as a matter of fact, I don't remember going through a single hardship without both of them flanking my sides. We stuck together through thick and thin, through pain and pleasure, through the good times and the bad. And I have to admit that even now I find our friendship utterly sickening, for only now do I know that it was all just an act.   
  
We continued to be known as the 'Golden Trio' throughout our years at Hogwarts, and on after graduation. But when Harry went up against Voldemort for the last time, things began to slowly reveal themselves. After Harry had returned from battle with a more than heroic tale of his defeating of the Dark Lord, I noticed little more than a few bruises on his arms and legs. There was no blood, there were no scrapes or cuts, and that's when I began to get awful curious about how Harry had come away from a feirce battle where he 'nearly lost his own leg' with only a bruise. So, considering only a pleasant outcome, I had questioned Harry about it. This had brought out someone I had never before seen.  
  
"Are you questioning me, Hermione!?" he had yelled, knocking over the coffee table in the living room. Anger written plainly on his face I had, of course, been more than frightened.  
  
"No, of course not, Harry, I was just concerned about the fact that you had no real injuries from the battle," I had tried my hardest to calm him, but got a real fright when I noticed Harry fingering the wand in his pocket.   
  
"You let me worry about the battle, Hermione, you weren't there, you don't know anything!" It was the first time I had seen such a fierce look in his eye, and I wondered if I should just drop the subject.  
  
"Tell me the truth, Harry, tell me what really happened!" He had, by now, become furious, and was shaking all over. He came forward and grasped my forearms harshly. Tears falling down my cheeks, I had fallen to my knees from the pressure of his grip. He gritted his teeth and was breathing heavily.  
  
"You want the truth, Hermione?" he said through his clenched jaw. I shook my head, crying. I looked up into his eyes and instantly they softened. The grip on my arms had loosened and I snatched them away, rubbing them lightly. He fell onto his own knees, tears streaming down his own face and reached toward me, but I stood up quickly and backed away from his grasp.   
  
"I'm so sorry," he had whispered reaching for me. I ran. I turned and ran, out of the house, away from Harry. I was angry, hurt, frustrated. There was no single emotion that had not touched me that night, save for happiness. I, of course, saw him again. I suppose I had foolishly forgiven him, I don't remember now, but I'm almost positive I had. And our friendship continued. We never talked about it. If he ever really apologized it was silent. An unspoken agreement, of sorts. Ron had never known, and to this day, though I haven't spoken with neither him nor Harry in years, I still believe he is clueless as to what had happened that night.   
  
So, life went on. Harry was still the hero, I was still the brain, and Ron was still, well, Ron. It was only until a few years later that questions had once again risen, and once again I took action. I decided to approach Harry in a public place. I wasn't stupid enough to do it in the privacy of my own home, this time around. I had met him at a cafè in downtown London for a cup of coffee. We chit-chatted for a while until I finally worked up the courage to ask him again.  
  
"Harry," I had said, "what really did happen in the battle with You-Know-Who?" Anger flashed in his eyes for only an instant before changing into a frustrated and annoyed look.   
  
"Hermione, don't bring that up again." The last part of this statement had a twinge of hatred in it, and I swear, even today, that I felt the long before healed bruises on my forearms twinge in pain. His eyes narrowed and he glanced around the crowded cafè before bringing his gaze back to mine. I'm sure he could see the fear evident in my eyes.  
  
"I just want to know the truth." I had spoken softly, reaching across the table and lightly touching his hand. He stiffened and ripped his hand away. Without speaking a word he stood and left. I sat there, alone, for some time before paying for the coffee and walking home from the cafè.  
  
It wasn't until until three months later, as I sat at my kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet that I saw his picture. 'Potter in Prison?' the headlines had read, and I had hurriedly dressed and rushed to the Ministry to find out any information I could about this story.   
  
To this very day I can't believe what I had heard. It was a story like no other. And I finally found the truth about the battle. Turns out, there was no truth. The battle, in fact, had never taken place. Harry had staged the whole thing, and surprisingly enough Ron had helped! I felt hopelessly betrayed. Completely and totally infuriated I had spoken with Harry, by phone, surprisingly enough.  
  
"Hermione," it was a desperate plea from the opposite end of the line. "Please, Hermoine, forgive me." I hadn't spoken, I hadn't said a word. I sat there and listened to the whole story, how everything, even all the incidents throughtout our years at Hogwarts had been set up! I was speechless, and after he had finished, I had hung up the phone without even saying good-bye. I never got to speak to Ron, though I know both of them were sent to Azkaban. It was something I had never expected, but then again, you can never be so sure.   
  
Betrayal is something I suppose most everyone goes through at least once in their life. Me, I've experenced it too many times to count from family members, friends, and even lovers. I look back at my life during Hogwarts, and see a stupid, unsuspecting girl, and wonder how in the world I hadn't seen it. I look back at the years fresh out of Hogwarts, and wonder how I hadn't seen it. And when I look back at the time when I actually did see it, I can only blame myself for not having seen it sooner. Friendship only leads to competition, who can be better than who. Life is only a race to the finish line, and beyond that shiny red tape is what lies at the end of every road life will lead you to, death. 


End file.
